And the wind upon its way whispered the boughs of May, And touched the nodding peony flowers to bid them waken. — Siegfried Sassoon Copy Share Image
How innocent were these Trees, that in Mist-green May, blown by a prospering breeze, Stood garlanded and gay; Who now in sundown… — Siegfried Sassoon Copy Share Image
Let my soul, a shining tree, Silver branches lift towards thee, Where on a hallowed winter's night The clear-eyed angels may alight. — Siegfried Sassoon Copy Share Image
I believe that the purpose for which I and my fellow soldiers entered upon this war should have been so clearly stated as to… — Siegfried Sassoon Copy Share Image
Who's this—alone with stone and sky? It's only my old dog and I— It's only him; it's only me; Alone with stone and grass… — Siegfried Sassoon Copy Share Image
And the wind upon its way whispered the boughs of May, And touched the nodding peony flowers to bid them waken. — Siegfried Sassoon Copy Share Image
“Suicide in the trenches: I knew a simple soldier boy Who grinned at life in empty joy, Slept soundly through the lonesome dark, And… — Siegfried Sassoon Copy Share Image
The visionless officialized fatuityThat once kept Europe safe for Perpetuity. — Siegfried Sassoon Copy Share Image
“I am banished from the patient men who fight. They smote my heart to pity, built my pride. Shoulder to aching shoulder, side by… — Siegfried Sassoon Copy Share Image
December stillness, teach me through your trees That loom along the west, one with the land, The veiled evangel of your mysteries. While nightfall,… — Siegfried Sassoon Copy Share Image
I am not protesting against the conduct of the war, but against the political errors and insincerities for which the fighting men are being… — Siegfried Sassoon Copy Share Image
“Dim, gradual thinning of the shapeless gloom Shudders to drizzling daybreak that reveals Disconsolate men who stamp their sodden boots And turn dulled, sunken… — Siegfried Sassoon Copy Share Image
“In 1917 I was only beginning to learn that life, for the majority of the population, is an unlovely struggle against unfair odds, culminating… — Siegfried Sassoon Copy Share Image
